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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24950770">The Cupid Incident</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandminniemcg/pseuds/meandminniemcg'>meandminniemcg</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Cafeteria worker Draco Malfoy, Consent Issues, Crimescene specialist Harry Potter, Dubious Consent, Forced Bonding, Happy Ending, House-elf culture, M/M, Witness Protection, our boys need to learn how to communicate, wanking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:57:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,663</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24950770</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandminniemcg/pseuds/meandminniemcg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco gets into the way of a potions attack and can't get Potter out of his head.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>HD Wireless 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A gnome named Cupid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt: <b>Can't Get You out of My Head</b> - Kylie Minogue</p><p>Titel<br/>Singer: Kylie Minogue<br/>The song quote in this fic is from this song. </p><p> </p><p>A big thank you to my betas L and N, as well as to S for giving me advice on one scene.</p><p> </p><p>And also, a big thank you to this fest's amazing mods, who had to give me two extensions to get this fic done.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>IMPORTANT: Thoughts that are transmitted through the bond are <em><span class="u">in italics and underlined.</span></em></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>My memory is blank. All I remember is one big people word, as if it was the only thing left of my life. OBLIVIATE. It was yelled by a big person; I think a female. It smells of something that big people seem to mistake for flowers, but if you compare it to real flowers it stinks.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>
The big person picks me up by my arm, as if it were mistaking me for a cherry and my arm for its stem. Then it says in a high, kind of whiny voice: “So, I’ve got my Cupid! You will learn to fly, little gnomey.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Then, it packs me into a glass jar with small holes in the lid. The holes are so small, I can only stick my pinky through. Then, the big person puts me and the glass into something dark that smells like artificial flowers and big people’s foot peels. I think they call their foot peels shoes. I don’t even know why their feet have peels. We gnomes have decent feet. They don’t need peels.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
Being a gnome is the second thing I remember. But my brain feels empty, and the big person is jostling me until I pass out.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
When I come to, I find myself lying on a garden table, but between walls and with one wall lying on top of the other walls, so I can’t even see the sky. Whiny female big person stares down at me with its huge eyes.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
Whiny female points her weird piece of wood at me and yells “Imperio!” I feel weird, like feathers and poplar seeds are flying around in my brain. Then, the female puts me back into the dark place, this time without the jar, and I can hold on to the inside, it feels soft and, yes I get jostled, but I can hold on to the thing and only feel slightly lightheaded, but this time, I stay conscious.</em>
</p>
<p><em>
When it takes me out of the bag, it is in a weird place with a wall on top, but huge. It waves its stick at me and whines:</em> “Alae Crescant!”<em></em></p>
<p>
  <em>
My back hurts as if radishes were growing out of it, and then, I feel completely weird. Something is on my back. And it seems to move, both left and right.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
“I gave you wings, now fly for me. Fly to the man with the scar on his head and pour this on his head.” She gives me something that looks like an icicle but not as cold and is filled with a stinking water. “Then you tear off a strand of his hair and bring it to me.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>
My head gets this feather and poplar seed feeling again, and I move my wings, those odd things on my back. I lift up like a leaf when the wind blows and move, sometimes more flying, sometimes more falling, to the big person with the scar. I pour water over his head, and tear out the hair, but, as I fly back, I crash into another big person, one with blond hair and a white big people fur. The rest of the water spills on him, and as I try not to fall on the ground, get tangled in its hair. I lose consciousness.</em>
</p>
<p><br/>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>)()(</p>
</div><br/><p>
Another day in the shitty ministry cafeteria. Another day of having to clean tables and wash dishes. Another day of people insulting him at any opportunity. But Draco was aware that it was necessary to go to work. If he didn’t want to starve, he needed to work, and the only way to earn money was to work as the kitchen wizard alongside the House Elves. And also, maybe he didn’t deserve anything better.</p>
<p>
Draco cut up vegetables all morning, then spent lunch time cleaning tables and avoiding most groups of people. The only people he was sure he didn’t need to avoid were Potter, the Weasleys, and Granger. Not because he had any illusion that they might have a better opinion of him, he was fully aware they had the same reasons to hate him as everyone else here.</p>
<p>
But unlike most people, they treated him like any cafeteria employee, and not someone they suspected of spitting into their soup.</p>
<p>
Working in the kitchen alongside the elves was actually not so bad. They had taught him the Elvish language, and among themselves they were very different from what Draco had seen from House Elves in his youth. Some had a wicked sense of humour and loved to banter with him. Also, they treated him almost like one of their own, and where they treated him differently, it was things like not being able to  Apparate inside the Ministry, where they had to sidealong him, and that he needed explanations on their customs.</p>
<p>
But they invited him to their celebrations, and Mipsy and Acorn’s wedding had been the best celebration of the last three years.</p>
<p>
But he was the one who had to leave the kitchen and clean up, because the chef demanded it, and that was what he hated about his life.</p>
<p>
And today was probably going to be a whole lot of more trouble in the cafeteria. It was Valentine’s Day after all, and he had to watch all the displays of interdepartmental declarations of love, knowing very well that there were only three wix in this country and one abroad who cared about him. One of them was his mother, one was very lesbian, one was happily married to a Muggle, and the other one was very aro ace.</p>
<p>
Usually, his lack of hope to ever be loved felt like an old scar, but days like Valentine’s day, Christmas, Beltane and also Greg’s wedding last year, were like icy weather that made an old injury throb again. He knew that the only one to blame for it was himself. He hadn’t run away the day Aunt Bella had announced that there would be a party for him. He had guessed that she meant his Marking Ritual, fear had gripped him, but he had done nothing to prevent it.</p>
<p>
Some of the elves befriending him was a great mercy, and he was grateful, especially to Ninty, a dignified elf, who had taken Draco under her wing.</p>
<p>
Trying his best to avoid people altogether, he collected plates and cutlery from tables without magic. He knew that nobody took it well if he used magic. Whenever he showed his wand, he had to reckon with people hexing him, or calling the Aurors and accusing him of trying to curse them. The fact that he had a Ministry-issued wand and could only use a very limited range of spells didn’t matter.</p>
<p>
As the second wave of Ministry employees came to eat, and Draco cleaned tables close to the people queuing for their food, suddenly, he heard someone yell. “Eww, what’s that? Ouch!”</p>
<p>
Moments later, just as he wanted to ask if anything needed to be cleaned up, something wet trickeled over his cheek. There was a sound of something clinking, like a breaking vial, and simultaneously, something heavy landed on his face. At first, it felt like an animal, but when he had put the plates on the next table and removed it from his face, he saw that it was an unconscious gnome. It had wings, and was  carrying a quiver with a bow and arrows across his shoulder.</p>
<p>
Draco carefully carried the gnome into the kitchen and sat down, holding him—as he saw now—carefully as not to hurt him, but at the same time tightly enough, so the gnome could not escape. He cast an Ennervate and waited for the gnome to look coherent again.</p>
<p>
“What the fuck were you doing? Why did you pour some weird liquid into my face and then crash land in it?” He whisper-yelled, as Mipsy cleaned his face with a wet cloth.</p>
<p>
“I don’t know.” The gnome’s voice was high-pitched, but lower than an elf’s and very nasal. “I did what the big female told me.” He looked sort of sheepish—</p>
<p>
“Can I ask you something? Why were you doing what this... big female told you to, and who are you?"” Draco remembered what he had learned from being friends with the elves: Always be respectful towards nonhuman beings. But he wasn’t going to take any nonsense from the gnome either.</p>
<p>
“I can’t tell you much except that it had drops in a green web around its eyes and smelled of artificial flowers. Its mane was between yellow and grey. And its voice sounds like a flying stinger.”</p>
<p>
In his younger years, Draco would have considered the gnome’s description of the person barmy, but working among the elves had taught him to take non-human creatures seriously. Now, he tried to learn about their culture before judging, so he could interpret their statements in relation to what he had learned.</p>
<p>
“What’s your name?” He smiled reassuringly at the gnome. No matter what the gnome had done, Draco couldn’t figure out why someone had told a gnome with wings to pour Thames water-- if his sense of smell didn’t deceive him-- on his head without gaining the gnome’s trust.</p>
<p>
“I don’t know? The female called me Cupid. But I forgot everything that happened before it yelled Obliviate at me.”</p>
<p>
“Merlin’s balls! Sorry. I just had hoped to be able to help you get back home more easily. Can I offer you a carrot or two, and ask you to wait for me to finish my work?” Draco hoped the  gnome would accept his offer.</p>
<p>
“Carrots? I’ll wait for hours if I get all the carrots I can eat.”  The gnome hopped up and down flapping his wings.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>)()(</p>
</div><br/><p>
<em><span class="u">“He’s been droning on for an hour and half. Binns was dead, but what’s Whitley’s excuse for being this boring?”</span></em> The voice seemed to come from inside Draco. As if the person talking were sitting inside his brain.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“And as soon as Whitley finally shuts up, Dawlish has to spew his prejudiced nonsense. I wish I could be someone whose absence or falling asleep during a meeting they wouldn’t notice.”</span></em> It was too silent to really recognize the person speaking, but loud enough for Draco to find it familiar.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“For fuck’s sake! Can’t they stick to the information on the case? What Whitley’s wife cooked last time Dawlish and his wife visited them is irrelevant bullshit. Can’t those idiots exchange recipes in their breaks instead of when we’re waiting for important information?”</span></em></p>
<p>
Whitley and Dawlish. They were high-ranked Aurors, very pompous, and they both tended to leave their table especially dirty whenever they ate in the part of the cafeteria where Draco cleaned.</p>
<p>
The liquid Cupid had poured on his head was no Thames water, but some kind of bonding potion, and he was now bonded to a bloke who worked at the Ministry, most likely to an Auror.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. He thinks so loud</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After a long afternoon of cleaning, baking for the next day with the elves and giving the gnome snacks, carrot pieces from the carrot cake, fruit slices and a little bit of crumble, Draco felt mentally exhausted. Whoever he was bonded to constantly thought very loud.</p>
<p>
His bonded man seemingly was an Auror, and not the most patient person, but he made the most hilarious comments about his stuffier coworkers.</p>
<p>
Or the man was a crime scene specialist. After some problems, Potter, for example, had changed from Auror to crime scene specialist. Maybe not the best choice for his mental health, Draco supposed. After all, Potter still had to spend his working days looking at crimes. Maybe the man was a colleague of Potter’s, although, an Auror would surely be more likely to be targeted by a potion attack.</p>
<p>
A few times, Draco had tried to send the man a thought, but the bond seemed to transmit only one way.</p>
<p>
As Draco Flooed home, he heard a few shouts about careless drivers and lyrics of pop and rock songs. It seemed like the man was listening to the car stereo while driving home. This suggested that the man might be a Muggleborn and could not live too far from London. People who avoided Apparating and Flooing were usually Muggleborns. </p>
<p>
Although, again, Potter loved driving Muggle vehicles, too. On nice summer days, he would usually come to work with a big motorbike, and he was known to also drive a Patronus blue Sharan with at least one child booster seat inside, even though he didn’t have kids of his own, or even a wife.</p>
<p>
But being bonded with Potter was completely unlikely, even though Draco felt something weird in his stomach at the thought.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“Can’t get you out of my head. Boy, it’s more than I dare to think about Lalala lala lalala Lalala lala lalala”</span></em> sounded through Draco’s head in a smooth, rich baritone voice. Draco didn’t know if he shivered from the voice, or from it coming from the inside of his head. It sounded good, even though he usually found the song obnoxiously upbeat. But then, he had a thing for beautiful men’s singing voices.</p>
<p>
If he had said that aloud in the presence of Ninty, she would have told him: “Draco is having a thing for men, especially if they are having black hair and a pert behind. When is Draco going to be introducing his mate?” She kept telling him to find a “mate” on a regular basis, and on the same regular basis he kept reminding her that he was neither a Veela nor a werewolf, and therefore didn’t “mate.”</p>
<p>
“Then why is everyone being making a fuss on every February 14, if they aren’t wanting to be mating?”</p>
<p> Her logic was devastatingly brilliant, but just because others could think of love and happily ever afters, that didn’t necessarily include him.</p>
<p>
But the elves acted as if he were a wizard like everybody else. To them his guilt didn’t mean what it meant to wix. Usually that was the good thing about them, but when they tried to persuade him to start dating and maybe adopt a kid or two, it became painful.</p>
<p>
Plassy had told him recently that they knew a very handsome bloke with green eyes and a very cute adoptive son, whose type Draco seemed to be. Neither Plassy, the head of the office-cleaning elves, nor their husband Senfy noticed that Draco excused himself to the toilet shortly after the conversation to cry. Elves’ culture was different. While they were wary of people outside their community, if they ever offended one of their own, they observed a holiday tradition of reconciling with each other at the latest three days before one of their two most important holidays.</p>
<p>
Like that, the elves forgave readily, as long as the person in question showed signs of making changes for the better. In that case, they couldn't imagine not forgiving them.</p>
<p>
And in their eyes, Draco had gone out of his way to change his ways. He was working alongside the elves, which most wix considered humiliating, he didn’t complain or hex anybody who dirtied the tables on purpose after he had just cleaned them or shot hexes at him. And from his meagre salary he donated what he could to two charities: A pre-Hogwarts children’s centre, where kids from Pureblood and Muggleborn families got to know each other and could form friendships beyond the old barriers in wizarding society, and Padfoot House, a place, where kids from abusive families could find safety.</p>
<p>
He often thought that if Padfoot House had existed already when he was 14 and his father cursed him for not having better grades than Granger, he could have run away and not have become a Deatheater.</p>
<p>
The voice in his head still sang the same song. Draco wondered if Can’t Get You Out of My Head was caught in the man’s mind. The song was definitely catchy.</p>
<p>
He crawled into his bed and turned on the Wireless. Another Celestina Warbeck special. But at least no hourlong repetition of one and the same song.</p>
<p>
Thoughts of his day, of elves trying to persuade him to start dating and obliviated gnomes starting potion attacks swirled around in his head, as he fell asleep.</p>
<p><br/>
He startled awake in the middle of the night by a weird sensation in his chest and his right hand. </p>
<p>Something was off. His hand was resting under his head, why did it feel as if he was ghosting his fingers across his chest? And he was wearing silk pyjamas. How could he feel bare skin on his fingertips and the touch of a bare hand presently brushing across his right nipple?</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“You thought you could stare at me like this instead of trying to catch the Snitch?”</span></em> That was the voice in his head again. Talking about Quidditch? That feeling in his hand and his nipple, was it a result of that weird bond, too?</p>
<p>
The hand slowly moved lower, as the voice said: <em><span class="u">“You lost the game. You know what that means. You have to blow me. Don’t close your eyes. I want to see those beautiful silver eyes on my face all the time.”</span></em></p>
<p> Merlin’s balls! Did life have to torment him with having to eavesdrop on some lucky Auror bloke getting a blow job, while all he had for his pleasure were his hands, a fleshlight and a plug?</p>
<p>
He expected the sensation of hair in his hands or of holding on to something in order not to topple over, but his right hand felt as if it ghosted lower and grabbed his cock. The man’s loud thoughts weren’t words he spoke to someone else. He was wanking. Draco felt his blood rushing into his groin. The silver-eyed seeker was the man’s wank phantasy. And Draco couldn’t resist his own wank phantasy, being fucked against the Quidditch shower wall and feeling his partner’s callused hands on his nipples.</p>
<p>
The man wanked faster and faster, thinking loudly about his imaginary partner’s blond hair and posh attitude, and Draco felt it as if he was touching himself simultaneously, even though his hand was still where he could see it.</p>
<p>
He imagined a dark-haired bloke with green eyes, and as he came in his pyjama pants, he felt the mysterious bloke come simultaneously.</p>
<p>
As soon as he felt in control of himself again, he vanished the mess and fell into a dreamless sleep.</p>
<p><br/>
The next morning was a Saturday. He woke up feeling self-conscious. This was not okay. He was privy to the thoughts of an unknown Auror or crime scene specialist, even to his wank fantasies. And obviously, that bloke didn’t even notice what was going on. The man didn’t voluntarily share his wanking behaviour or his fantasies.</p>
<p>
Draco stumbled through his Saturday morning rituals wondering how he was supposed to behave. He brought the gnome, who had spent the night in the winter garden, a plate of fruits and vegetables, and noticed that the gnome’s wings were significantly smaller. “Do you remember your name?”</p>
<p>
“I don’t think my name is Obliviate. The female called me Cupid. I have no idea.” The gnome offered between noisily chewing on a piece of raw cauliflower.</p>
<p>
“It definitely isn’t Obliviate. That’s the spell to make someone forget something. And she probably made you forget your name. What do you think, if I call you Cupid until we find a way to restore your memory?” Draco tried to ignore the obnoxious noises the gnome made while eating.</p>
<p>
“You can call me what you want. You don’t try to poison me or throw me around. You even feed me.” The gnome grinned.</p>
<p>
“Then, as long as we don’t know your real name, I’ll call you Cupid.”</p>
<p>
The Floo roared to life in the sitting room, and a moment later, Draco heard the clicking of heels on the flagstones. “Draco, have you forgotten our brunch?”</p>
<p>
Salazar’s saggy balls! He should have been at Pansy’s an hour ago! “Sorry, Pans, I was kind of preoccupied with some... weird things that happened yesterday.”</p>
<p>
“You look like shit, Draco. Maybe you should come over now and tell me what happened.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Parks and Greg</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pansy guided him into her flat above the Parks and Greg Café. Draco sat down on her sofa, as she went downstairs. Two minutes later she came back levitating a tray with hot Matcha chocolate and an assortment of cakes. “The way you look, you need the hard stuff.”</p><p>
The hard stuff was always the most expensive, chocolatiest snack Greg and Pansy sold at the café they owned. Draco could never have afforded it, as Parks and Greg was one of the most expensive and fashionable cafés in Muggle London. Nobody except for Greg’s wife Keiko, a Muggle clarinet player, knew that the bakery was wizarding behind the scenes.</p><p>
“Draco, you have to take some chocolate and tell me what’s going on. Did Dawlish accuse you of being unclean again?” She speared a piece of gâteau au chocolat with a fork and fed Draco with it.</p><p>
He chewed resignedly and then answered her. “No, Dawlish is leaving me alone since the elves insisted that I’m essential for their loyalty at their last talks with the Beings Division. Smith must have been close to tearing off his own hair that day, as Ninty told me. I don’t know if I deserve the elves’ loyalty, but I’m grateful for it.”</p><p>
“Thank Merlin and Morgana.” Pansy smiled at him. “But then darling, what ever is the matter?”</p><p>
“Yesterday, as I was cleaning the tables, a gnome with wings collided with my face, dousing me in a weird potion. Since then, I’ve been hearing somebody’s thoughts, I think as soon as he’s a little emotional the thoughts get transmitted. I couldn’t manage to transmit my thoughts to him, on the other hand.” He hid his hands under the table. Pansy didn’t need to see them shake.</p><p>
But Pansy knew him too well for that. “Don’t you dare put on the Malfoy Mask. I know you hide your hands when they shake. And I know that they shake when you’re really afraid of something. I won’t let you isolate yourself like during the war. Do you think the Ministry suspects you of something, or do you think it’s neo-Death Eaters?”</p><p>
“I—I’m not the intended target. The man I’m bonded to is. The gnome crashed into me when he was on his way back from targeting him with the potion. And he…”</p><p>
As if on command, the running commentary in his brain resumed. <em><span class="u">“Hinny: Finally a happy End? What the fuck? Can’t I drink a coffee with a friend without them expecting us to be a straight couple? And why do they call us Hinny? I’ve gone on dates with men, and despite my talking about being bi, there was nobody showing it in the newspaper, but when I drink coffee with Ginny suuuure, that’s a date. I should sue the Daily Prophet.”<em></em></span></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em></em>
  </em>
</p><p>
“Draco? Are you okay? You look as if you’d seen Cedric Diggory’s ghost.” Pansy put a hand on Draco’s arm.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“He just talked again. Do you have today’s Daily Prophet?” Draco’s voice was shaky.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Accio Daily Prophet!” The newspaper came flying from downstairs.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Oi, I was reading that!” Greg yelled from the break room.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Sorry, Greg. We have an emergency here.” Pansy replied.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
Heavy steps sounded on the stairs, and Greg came in. “Hi Draco, what’s wrong?”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
Draco stared at the Daily Prophet’s front page with a picture of Potter and Ginevra Weasley sitting together in a café and laughing. “I’m apparently bonded to Harry Potter.”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
Greg pressed his hand to his mouth. It looked as if he were trying not to laugh. But then he seemed to notice how distressed Draco felt. “So, Potter and you didn’t bond voluntarily?”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“He isn’t even aware of the bond, I think. At least, he isn’t as straight as the Prophet wants us to believe. Nor is Ginevra Weasley.” Draco told Greg the whole story, leaving only the wanking out.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><br/>
“Harry Potter. At least you’re bonded to a decent man.” Greg sighed sympathetically. “I’m sure he won’t blame it on you and look for the person who sicced the gnome on him. You can trust him.”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“But you should talk to him personally. Not to the DMLE in general, although maybe you can still trust Auror Weasley. But beware of the other Aurors.” Pansy gave him a stern look.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
Draco rolled his eyes, but felt fondness for his best friend. “Pans, do you really think I don’t know that? You know about the DMLE’s behaviour towards me, from me.”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Pans, I’m the one of us who has the least problems with the Aurors. We’ll stop the bakery for today, and you put a sign out that we’re closing early for family reasons. And then, I’ll go with Draco.” Greg’s bass voice rang with confidence. Draco thought of what a great development his friend had made from the boy who was always in the shadow of Vince, forced to play a part that wasn’t him at all. Draco often wondered, if Vince had tried to be more like Greg, would he still be alive?</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“But you should pop over to Draco’s and take the gnome with you.” Pansy reminded them.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><br/>
</p><p>
  </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>)()(</p>
  <p>
    <em></em>
  </p>
</div><em></em><br/><p>
An hour later, Draco and Greg stepped out of the elevator at the DMLE. It had taken a lot of convincing from Greg for the welcome witch to let them into the ministry on Draco’s day off. She had accused them of nefarious intentions, but had no way of denying them the right to report a crime they witnessed.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
An old secretary with a mullet and the name Karen Ashford asked them what they wanted.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Please, Mrs. Ashford, we need to talk to crime scene specialists Potter and Auror Weasley. We have an important statement to make.” Draco said.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Potter and Weasley aren’t around. I’ll call Auror Smith, and you can tell him.” Smith was one of the worst from the DMLE crowd.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Please, we have to talk to Potter and Weasley. It’s a very important matter.” Greg pleaded.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“You can’t just come here and make demands. Who do you think you are?” She sneered.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
Draco considered giving up. They never saw beyond his past, and why would they?</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Please, Mrs. Ashford, we have important information for them. What can we do here, we left our wands at the welcome desk? We’re no match for them.” Greg begged.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
The elevator dinged behind them.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“How dare you make demands? Either you talk to the Auror who is here, or…”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Karen, what’s going on?” A rich, smooth voice interrupted her.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Those… ‘Gentlemen’ demand to talk to you both.” Karen spat the word gentlemen.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Hello, Malfoy, Goyle. You want to talk to us? Follow me.” Potter gave Draco a reassuring smile, while Weasley, who stood next to him, looked at them sceptically.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
Potter led the way into an office room and offered them seats. “So, what did you want to talk about?”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“I came here to report witnessing a failed attack--against you. You had an incident with a strange transfigured Cupid who poured a liquid on you and tore out a strand of your hair on February 14, Potter.” Draco started.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Sure, but I didn’t worry much. I didn’t feel lust or attraction to anybody I didn’t feel attracted to anyways.” Potter said calmly.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“You’re an Auror, remind me how you’re this naïve?” Draco drawled. “The Cupid collided with me, and since then, I sometimes hear your thoughts. Someone was attempting to spy on you.”</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Did you try to spy on him?” Weasley’s face was a mask of anger.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
“Of course not, it wouldn’t make sense to come and tell you, if I were the person who did it.” Draco was surprised at his own lack of anger with Weasley. But he knew that he would have been just as angry and asked the same kind of question, had Weasley told him of an attempt to spy on Pansy, Blaise, or Greg.
“Feel free to use Legilimens on me. Both of you, but one after the other.” Draco shuddered at the thought of being subjected to Legilimens again; it had been used on him every three months in the first four years of his probation. But it seemed like it would be the only way to convince Weasley.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
Weasley Accioed a form, “Witness consenting to Legilimens,” and Draco filled and signed it.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
Then, Weasley sat closer to Draco, and cast Legilimens. The uncomfortable feeling of someone prodding and poking around in his mind began. Draco was grateful that Weasley kept it limited to the events of February 14.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
As soon as Weasley was out of Draco’s mind, Potter sent his Patronus to a person called Uche to bring a cup of tea. When she brought the tea and the chocolate, Potter didn’t, as expected, give them to Weasley, but pushed them in front of Draco. “It may be only Twinings, but it will help you feel better.” He gave Draco time to finish his tea, before casting his own Legilimens.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
While every Legilimens before had felt like a harsh intrusion, Potter’s felt different, far more gentle, Potter’s magic entered Draco’s mind softly and tentatively. It felt as if Potter were caressing Draco’s thoughts, and they seemed to respond to Potter’s magic like kittens to a hand scratching their ears. Perhaps it was the bonding potion. Draco couldn’t prevent flashes of thought of last night popping up, but if Potter saw that memory, he didn’t show any sign of it.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
When Potter’s magic had left Draco’s mind, he and Weasley exchanged a long worried look.
“Whoever’s done it, is likely to try again. They also might attack Malfoy since he’s an important witness.” Weasley finally stated.</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Witness protection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After the Legilimens, frantic activity broke loose in the DMLE. Weasley told Potter that it was a case for the stalker drill, but possibly more dangerous, the perp might be a neo-Deatheater. Then he sent three Patronus messages, first to Head Auror Robards, then to two other Aurors, and last a very cryptic one that moved towards the lift: “Brightest Cat, Fresh Pickled Toad has been compromised.”</p>
<p>
The phrase “fresh pickled toad” evoked a cringe in Draco, as he remembered writing bad poetry in second year, only saved from embarrassment as everyone had assumed it to be the work of the Weaslette.</p>
<p>
Weasley asked Greg to go home, assuring him that nobody would suspect Draco, even going so far as to say that he would personally make sure Draco was safe and would be treated with respect. He quickly turned to Draco, asked him to squeeze a piece of parchment half the size of a ten-pound note into the palm of his non-dominant hand, made a wand movement, and asked Draco to give the piece of parchment to Greg.</p>
<p>
“Malfoy can’t return home for now, nor Floo, owl, use a two-way mirror or Muggle ways of communication, but this is a way of keeping a next of kin updated on the well-being of a witness. He can send you small messages that don’t reveal anything about his whereabouts by writing them on his hand. As long as we know nothing about the person who tried to attack Harry, we have to take a worst-case scenario into consideration.”</p>
<p>
Draco gasped for breath. His fear of the situation mingled with Potter’s angry thoughts, and they were very similar: “Will I never be able to live in peace?” was a very dominant thought in both their minds. Draco feared having to live in some dodgy kind of safehouse for the foreseeable future.</p>
<p>
“I think the Hippogriff nest is safe enough if you accept sharing with him,” Weasley addressed Potter now.</p>
<p>
“Er, you think we have to lay low? I hate laying low.” Potter replied in a somewhat petulant voice.</p>
<p>
“Sorry, mate, but as long as we don’t know what we’re dealing with, it seems the best solution. And even if it’s Malfoy, I know you’re better at laying low with somebody around than all alone.” Weasley put a hand on Potter’s shoulder.</p>
<p>
“Yeah, I know, and there are worse people to lay low with.” Potter thought of a few names, among them Dawlish and Smith.</p>
<p>
“That’s the spirit, mate.” Weasley smiled at Potter, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Malfoy, we’ll have to keep your gnome here and question him some more, and Brightest Cat will visit you later, as it’s safest if you both leave for the Hippogriff’s Nest right now.”</p>
<p>
“Don’t worry, there aren’t actually any hippogriffs. One used to live there for some time, but it left before the end of the war,” Potter winked. So, Potter had seen him shudder at the thought of hippogriffs.</p>
<p>
“You might be away from home for a while, do you need anything important, like potions you take regularly, or something like that?” Weasley inquired.</p>
<p>
“No potions, but what about my clothes? And who will help me when I lose my job?” Draco felt anger rise. He would be sent to Azkaban if he lost his job, his probation was 15 draconic years.</p>
<p>
“Outside this task force, nobody will know that it’s not you who’s going to work again on Monday. Could you give us some hair for that? If you're too vain, leg or chest hair will do.” When Draco had cut off a strand of his hair, Weasley opened the door. “Junior Aurors Shahin and O’Dell, come in, please.”</p>
<p>
Two Aurors, a very graceful-looking woman with a black pixie cut and a man with long sandy hair, entered the room. Weasley led the woman towards Draco. “Malfoy, say hello to your double. Aisha Shahin is the best at imitating other people’s mannerisms, even better, she grew up in Wiltshire.”</p>
<p>
“And Quinn O’Dell has been my double three times already when I had to deal with stalkers,” Potter added.</p>
<p>
“The Golden Boy and his fans,” Draco muttered, as Harry ushered him to a visitor sofa, while Ron, O’Dell, and Shahin moved towards the other side of the room to greet Robards.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“I’m not the Golden Boy. I’m Harry Potter. I hate when people call me Golden Boy.”</span></em> The thoughts were almost yelled through Draco’s head.</p>
<p>
“The Golden Boy is the persona the press wants you to be. I know better than to assume that you were him.” Draco said quietly, so only Potter could hear. Shame flooded through him, thinking about all the times in the past when he had fed into the gossip.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“I’m not the great hero they want to see in me. There are so many people who died because I made the wrong decisions. Sirius, Remus, Dobby, …”</span></em> Draco had never thought that there would be so much pain behind Potter’s silent stare into a middle distance. Although that day, in 1999, he had also talked about the people he had lost.</p>
<p>
Before Draco even noticed what he was doing, he had moved still closer to Potter, and put a hand on his arm. “You had to deal with things a teenager should never have to deal with. Things nobody should ever have to deal with. And they still try to claim you for their purposes, the yellow press spies on you, idiots try to douse you with love potions…”</p>
<p>
“And I get lots of half-witted letters from anyone who wants to run for any kind of office and tries to persuade me to support them. Sometimes they try to trick me into supporting things that are the opposite of what I believe in.” Potter barked out a humourless laugh.</p>
<p>
“You’re a human being with flaws and strengths, and they all think they can stuff you into a bottle and turn you into their personal genie,” Draco replied.</p>
<p>
“Harry, Malfoy,” Weasley’s voice rang out from the other side of the room. “It’s time to Apparate to the Hippogriff’s nest. Cat will come later and bring food and have a talk with the both of you. Malfoy, do you have any allergies or other dietary regulations?”</p>
<p>
“I’m a vegetarian. No allergies, just a slight aversion to Brussels sprouts.” Draco smiled despite the situation. It was decent to ask about his diet.</p>
<p>
“Come on, Malfoy, I’ll sidealong you.” Potter stretched out his arm.</p>
<p>
Draco took Potter’s arm, and the sidealong Apparition drew him into a swirl of Potter’s scent.</p>
<p><br/>
The first thing Draco saw of the Hippogriff’s Nest was a bleak corridor with yellow stains scattered across the upper half of the wall.</p>
<p>
“Sorry about the state of the corridor.” Potter ruffled his hair with a sheepish look on his face.  “This mark is where a picture of my godfather’s bigoted mother was and yelled insults at everybody, and those marks...” Potter motioned to the opposite wall. “...are where we removed house elf heads and gave them a decent burial.”</p>
<p>
“House elf heads, that’s barbaric. I’ve only seen that in the house of my mad… We don’t happen to be in the old Black house, do we?” Draco exclaimed.</p>
<p>
“Yes, we’re in Grimmauld Place. I inherited it from my godfather Sirius.” The sadness in Potter’s face made Draco wish he could wrap the man in his arms. </p>
<p>
“He didn’t live to teach you the charms to bond the house to your magic? It would adapt to your needs and wishes if you could cast them.” Draco hoped that Aunt Bella would suffer in the afterlife for all eternity.</p>
<p>
“I’m not sure he knew those charms himself. He was disowned and burnt out of the family tree at sixteen, and only got the house because his brother Regulus was already dead.”Potter sighed and led Draco into a not very refined but passable kitchen. “The Weasleys wanted to teach me their house charms, but we found out that the houses were built on different runic principles.” Draco sat down at the table. Potter made tea, his posture one of someone who had too many losses to mourn. Draco wished he could help him somehow.</p>
<p>
But he could! “It will take me some research in the Black library to find the specifics of this house, but then I can teach you. The Black properties and the Malfoy properties are built on the same principles.”</p>
<p>
“You would do that for me?” Potter’s smile was so beautiful!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Hermione</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pop of Apparition came from the corridor, followed by a knock at the kitchen door.</p>
<p>
“Come in,” Potter called out.</p>
<p>
It was Granger. As usual these days, she was wearing her hair in protective bob braids. </p>
<p>
She put her handbag on the kitchen table, hugged Potter hello, then shook Draco’s hand as if it wasn’t unusual. “I brought food, and then we have to run some tests.”</p>
<p>
“Aren’t you in the Sub-Department of Statistics? Why do you run the tests?” Draco stared at her.</p>
<p>
She took takeaway out of her handbag. “I hope you like Vietnamese food, Malfoy. I’m in the Sub-Department of Statistics, Magical Phenomena Squad. We deal with the influence of magical phenomena on the lives of Wix.”</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“Way to say ‘Unspeakable’,”</span></em> Potter’s voice rang out in Draco’s mind.</p>
<p>
“Potter, I heard that. Oh, fuck, I guess, now Granger will Obliviate me.” Draco wrung his hands.</p>
<p>
“I won’t. At least not yet, and I’d rather avoid Obliviating people if I can. Did you hear Harry think of a Department I might or might not be in?” Granger’s voice sounded friendly, but could he trust her? He had never given her a reason to treat him well.</p>
<p>
He nodded. </p>
<p>
“I won’t Obliviate someone if there’s another, less harmful way. And I think an Unbreakable Vow can serve the purpose very well, here.” She rubbed one of her braids between her fingers.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“She Obliviated her parents and sent them to Australia during the war to keep them safe. Until today, she still hasn’t  managed to restore their memories of her completely. They think she’s her mother’s niece.” </span></em>Did Potter send that thought on purpose? It was structured as if he was telling Draco this, but Potter hadn’t moved his lips at all.</p>
<p>
Meanwhile Granger had put the takeaway under a Stasis charm and was currently unpacking enough groceries to last them for four days.</p>
<p>
“C-can I take the vow now, to convince you?” Draco was afraid she might remember what a git he had been at school, or that he might still not have overcome enough prejudices to be considered worthy of the way they were treating him. He cast two cushioning charms on the floor and knelt down on the one.</p>
<p>
Hermione knelt on the other one and took Draco’s hand. “Harry, your wand. You know the ritual from when we had to cooperate on the Wessex case.”</p>
<p>
Potter touched their hands with the tip of his wand.</p>
<p>
“Will you, Draco, protect the secret of my work as long as I am bound to it?” Hermione asked.</p>
<p>
“I will,” Draco said firmly. He remembered dreaming of becoming an Unspeakable as a kid. And he knew how important it was. A ring of magic from Harry’s wand wrapped itself around his wrist.</p>
<p>
“Will you, Draco, talk to nobody but me, Harry and Ron about my real profession unless I allow you to, as long as I shall live.”</p>
<p>
“I will.” Another ring wrapped itself around his wrist.</p>
<p>
“Will you do all that is in your power to protect not only my secrets but also all of Harry’s secrets that you hear through the bond unless he consents to you talking about it, unless telling it is the only way to save Harry’s life?”</p>
<p>
“I will. From the bottom of my heart, I will.” Draco felt relieved by the questions of the vow. He knew that they could have been worded in a far more dangerous way, and he knew Granger well enough to be aware of how deliberately she must have chosen her words.</p>
<p>
Granger asked him and Potter to sit down comfortably and started the examination. She waved her wand in intricate patterns first over Potter, then over him, and after that, she placed a diamond-shaped milky object into Draco’s hand and an identical one into Potter’s. Another wave of her wand over both objects made them glow in white.</p>
<p>
“Harry, think of your plan for your next weekend with Teddy.” She said softly.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“I’ll take him to the Muggle zoo. He always tells me to interpret jokes for the snakes, because he wants to see what it looks like when a snake laughs.”</span></em> Potter smiled softly. All the colours of the rainbow appeared first on Potter’s artifact, then on Draco’s.</p>
<p>
“Potter said he wants to take Teddy to the Muggle zoo and tell the snakes jokes for him,” Draco repeated. After his first word, Potter’s artifact dimmed visibly.</p>
<p>
“Amazing.” Granger wrote something down in a Muggle notepad.</p>
<p>
“Please, don’t call me Potter, as if we were still rivals. Call me Harry.” A pleading look appeared on Potter’s closed mouth.</p>
<p>
“You really want me to call you by your first name? But I’m…” Draco pointed at his left arm.</p>
<p>
Potter interrupted him. “You’re doing your work no matter how they treat you. You are friendly to the elves. I hear them talking a lot about your patience and your hard work. Your past shaped you, but it matters so much more where you went from there. I’d be happy to be on first name terms with you.”</p>
<p>
“You could call me by my first name, too,” Draco said, extending an olive branch.</p>
<p>
“Your MacDougal diamonds!” Granger exclaimed. “I’ve never seen such synchronicity in two MacDougal diamonds, unless…” She shut her mouth as if she had said too much, then started again. “I can’t tell you what it might mean now, but I promise I’ll tell you what I know after my theory has been tested. Telling you now might influence the results.”</p>
<p>
“Were the MacDougal diamonds invented by Morag MacDougal?” Draco tried to distract himself.</p>
<p>
“No, her aunt Seonag invented them. They measure some processes in the brain.” Granger explained. “Every colour indicates a feeling. I wish I also had a Muggle EEG, we could examine more different processes…” She trailed off.</p>
<p>
Draco summoned all his courage to ask. “Would-would you explain to me as much of it as you are allowed to tell civilians, Granger?”</p>
<p>
“This is your case. You have the right to get a lot of information on the results, as soon as having them won’t mess up the test.” Granger gave him a reassuring smile. “Call me Hermione. I think we have some acquaintances in common.”</p>
<p>
“We went to school together. Of course, we have acquaintances in common.” Draco tried his best not to sound snarky.</p>
<p>
“I mean the elves. They told me a lot about you during the sessions of the Elvish Trade Union.” She smiled.</p>
<p>
“So, you are the Human Representative they talk so much about, Hermione? Okay, call me Draco.” He felt he could trust her more. The Ministry elves were very good at telling someone’s character, unlike most elves in pureblood estates who were too isolated to question their masters’ opinions.</p>
<p>
“Back to the topic of the bond. What kinds of inner monologues of Harry’s do you hear?” Hermione changed the topic.</p>
<p>
“The first thing I heard was his thoughts about the monologuing of his colleagues during a meeting. Later, it seemed like a song was stuck in his head on his way home.”</p>
<p>
“Yeah, Can’t Get You out of My Head is way too catchy. And it’s Teddy’s favourite song right now,” Harry piped up.</p>
<p>
“And then… well, I think I should tell Harry alone first and have him decide how much of it to tell you. It’s rather…” Draco trailed off. This wasn’t easy to talk about.</p>
<p>
“You know what? I’ll check in if Kreacher is back, and you can talk about this privately. Tell me when you’re ready to continue.” She got up and left the room, her steps discernible on the stairs going down to the first floor.</p>
<p>
Draco took a few deep breaths. It didn’t help, but he had to say it. He stared into his teacup to avoid eye contact. “In the night, you had a – you had a wank. I heard your fantasy about Quidditch and silver eyes, and I felt on my body how you touched yourself. I’m – I’m sorry. I didn’t know yet, that it was you. I only found out in the morning, when you read the Daily Prophet.”</p>
<p>
When Draco found the courage to lift his eyes after a lengthy silence, Harry stared out of the window. “You didn’t choose to be involved in this. It’s not your fault. But those people who… They are lucky they aren’t here at this moment. I hope that it didn’t make you feel too uncomfortable.”</p>
<p>
“The thought of blowing a fit bloke?” Draco blurted out. “To be honest, at that moment it just felt hot, and when I found out it was you, I was more worried about you being uncomfortable with me receiving your thoughts and sensations.” As soon as he said it, Draco wished he could take it back.</p>
<p>
Harry sat silently for a few moments, the way he would sit over a difficult question at Hogwarts, then he pulled himself together visibly and called Hermione back in. He explained to her that the bond obviously transmitted also the thoughts and sensations of getting off.</p><p>She told him the potion would wear off by itself at some time between in a few hours and in three days.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After more questions and tests, then dinner with Hermione and Weasley, who brought the gnome along, Harry showed Draco to his room. It was beside Harry’s own room and looked very much like an old-fashioned version of a typical Slytherin teenager’s room. Even the standard trunk was there, monogrammed RAB.</p>
<p>
Draco had caught a glimpse of Harry’s room when Harry had sought out a set of pyjamas for him. It had Muggle pictures of motorcycles with women in bikinis on the walls, and the four-poster was wide enough to be suitable for a couple. Beside the bed, there was a picture of two men, with a frame of elaborately painted green carnations. It seemed that the women on the posters probably were just a distraction for the room’s original owner’s family, while in reality, he was in a relationship with the other man on the picture.</p>
<p>
Draco turned in for the night. He changed into his pyjamas then looked through the bookshelf for something readable. The only thing remotely interesting was an old copy of Hogwarts a History.</p>
<p>
Somebody knocked at the door. “Come in.”</p>
<p>
“Mr. Harry told Kreacher to check in on Mr. Draco Malfoy.” It was an old, ancient elf. “Does Mr. Draco Malfoy need anything?”</p>
<p>
“Could I have something to read that isn’t a schoolbook. Maybe a novel?” Draco asked.</p>
<p>
“Mr. Draco Malfoy has looked at Master Regulus’ bookshelf already? Master Regulus hid one book to help Master Sirius. Maybe that is to Mr. Draco Malfoy’s liking.” Kreacher made some movement with his hand above a tile on the floor, and it shifted back by magic. He reached inside and brought out an old copy of <em>Maurice</em>.</p>
<p>
“Thank you, Kreacher. This is the perfect bedtime read.” Draco smiled at the elf.</p>
<p>
“If Mr. Draco needs anything else, Mr. Draco can call Kreacher any time.”</p>
<p>
“Thank you, Kreacher. Good night.” Draco opened the book just as Kreacher Disapparated from the room.</p>
<p><br/>
<em><span class="u">“You took advantage of me!”</span></em> It was Draco’s voice, but it came from outside, rather like an echo of his voice, but Draco was sure that the anger wasn’t his.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“Please… forgive me… I was drunk, too…”</span></em> Harry pleaded in his head. <em><span class="u">“Yes, I kissed you, but I… I fancied you. And I was drunk. I would never…”</span></em></p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“You kissed me then, and last night you exposed me to your wanking. You’re disgusting!”</span></em> Faux-Draco yelled, and Draco slowly came to realize what was going on. He was hearing a nightmare of Harry’s.</p>
<p>
A nightmare about what Potter obviously feared about the night before Draco’s trial.</p>
<p><br/>
<b>1999</b></p>
<p>
<em>“Malfoy junior, a visitor for you.” The Sonorused voice of the Auror at the gate of the Manor sounded strange, not like when the assigned solicitor was there or they came for another round of searching the Manor. It worried Draco a little that he couldn’t interpret the Auror’s voice.
Whoever it was, he had to open up and talk to the person, so he forced himself to appear at the door.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>
“Hi, Malfoy, I hope I’m not disturbing you.” A pair of green eyes looked directly into his, not provocatively or aggressively, rather they seemed tentative and almost shy.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
“You’re not. In fact, there’s hardly anything sensible to do here. And the only people I get to see are the Aurors, my mother, and my solicitor.” Draco looked down.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
“I wanted to ask if they’re treating you decently.” Potter fidgeted.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
“They are. Well, they aren’t very friendly, but we get healthy ingredients and Auror Marley is teaching me to cook.” Draco thought of the strict but fair woman who had mentioned once that looking after them during Draco’s house arrest was her last assignment before she was going to retire.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
Potter asked lots of questions, and before he left, he asked if Draco would like him to bring something by, like books. Draco summoned his courage and told Potter that Blaise had recommended the poetry of Housman and Auden, but that his father would never have accepted them in his library.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
The next day, Potter had visited again and brought three books, Housman and Auden’s poems, as well as a gay romance novel about two Quidditch players. He told Draco that he had read and enjoyed the romance novel. It left Draco surprised after all Potter had dated the Weaslette. Instead, Potter had told him that he was bisexual. They had talked about both having crushes on Cedric Diggory in their fourth year and lots of other things.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
After that, Potter visited Draco at least twice a week.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em><br/>
The day before the trial, Potter visited him, too. Draco had been allowed to drink wine with Potter, and they had enjoyed one of the best wines from the Manor cellars sitting side by side on the sofa.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
“Have you ever kissed a bloke?” Potter had asked him when it was late at night.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
“No. You?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
“No.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
They both leaned in and kissed. It felt amazing, and they kept snogging until the moment the night Auror told Harry visiting time was over, even for the Boy Who Lived.</em>
</p>
<p><br/>
Draco had always thought he had taken advantage of Potter. He had felt so ashamed that at the trial he barely had the courage to nod at Potter, but Potter had also only nodded at him. To Draco’s relief, Potter still spoke in his defense. And it had made the difference. The accusation had pleaded for Azkaban. House arrest for a year followed by a long probation period was clearly better, even if the probation was as long as Draco’s.
They had given him the task of finding a job. And when he had pointed out that he could only work if somebody was willing to employ him, they had decided to make him work at the cafeteria along with the elves. Draco was sure they expected him to prefer Azkaban over the humiliation of being on the same step in the hierarchy with the elves. But Draco had just been thankful that he wasn’t thrown into Azkaban to rot.</p>
<p>
Then the elves had integrated him into their community and he had learned how to be himself among the others. They may not be human, but they were still people, and very decent ones at that.</p>
<p><br/>
<em><span class="u">“I hate you!”</span></em> Fake-Draco’s voice spat out the words over Harry’s pleas for forgiveness.</p>
<p>
Enough was enough. He had to find a way to help Harry and let him know that this was not him. But he couldn’t go into Harry’s room. If he sent a paper crane… but then, it couldn’t wake Harry.</p>
<p>
But if he asked Kreacher to wake him and give him the crane? Yes, that probably was his best option. He Accioed a piece of paper and wrote a message to Harry.</p>
<p>
“Kreacher, please, come here.” He called out.</p>
<p>
The elf Apparated with a pop. “Mr. Draco, you called?”</p>
<p>
“Thank you for responding in the middle of the night. Harry needs our help. He’s having a horrible nightmare. Can you give him this message and ask him to read it immediately? I know it will help him feel better.” Draco asked.</p>
<p>
Kreacher smiled with a softness Draco had hardly expected to see in the elf’s face. “Mr. Draco can rely on Kreacher. Kreacher is happy to see that Mr. Draco cares about Mr. Harry.”</p>
<p>
Then, Kreacher Disapparated. A few seconds later, he heard Harry read his message. <em><span class="u">“Dear Harry, that was a nightmare. I can assure you; you haven’t taken advantage of me. I was always sure you would not have kissed me if you had been sober. My only regret about the kiss is that you were too drunk for your consent to be valid. It was the best kiss of my life. Yours, Draco.”</span></em></p>
<p>
Draco cringed. Why had he written it like that? He might as well have written that he had never stopped fancying Harry. If he hadn’t weirded Harry out back then, he was doing so today.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“Draco doesn’t regret the kiss! Draco doesn’t regret the kiss!”</span></em> It sounded relieved. But it was well-known that Harry was kind of oblivious. He had never realized immediately when someone had a crush on him. What would happen when he realized it?</p>
<p>
The bond was silent now, maybe Harry had fallen asleep again. Draco read a few pages and tried to fall asleep, too. It wasn’t easy so he decided to meditate to calm down enough to sleep.</p>
<p>
Suddenly, just as he was thinking of his arms feeling comfortably heavy, he felt the sensation of his hand lifting, while simultaneously lying still. The ghost touch feeling seemed to move to his crotch and rub across his cock through his pyjama bottoms. Okay, maybe when Harry was asleep, the connection was wider open. It didn’t necessarily mean anything.</p>
<p>
The hand moved away again, gliding first across the pillow, then ghosting over bare nipples. Draco didn’t need to know that Harry slept topless.</p>
<p>
The hand returned to his cock while the other hand seemed to stroke across firm abs, firmer than his own while his blood rushed south at an incredible speed.</p>
<p>
Draco tried and failed miserably to think of something that could counteract his arousal. Harry was surely asleep. His hands simply must be moving across his body without his knowledge. Why did nothing offputting come to Draco’s mind?</p>
<p>
The hand moved into the pyjama bottoms. Draco felt skin on skin, yet he could still see his own hand lying motionlessly on the blanket in the wand light.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“I think of you wearing my clothes and looking at me. You’re beautiful. I wonder, would you like to fuck me, or would you prefer if I fucked you? I have seen that fine arse of yours, your trousers hug it perfectly.”</span></em></p>
<p>
Draco sighed. Why did the fates hate him so much that they chose to bond him with a sleepwanker? And with the most handsome sleepwanker possible, at that?</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“How do you like this?”</span></em> One hand started playing around with the balls, while the other stroked across the vein on the underside of his cock. Then Draco felt Harry take off his pyjama bottoms, turn around, and stroke over a toned arse cheek while humping a pillow.</p>
<p>
<em><span class="u">“You could come over, I’d like to do this with you.”</span></em> Draco could hear the breathiness as if Harry were saying it out loud.</p>
<p> Harry obviously laid on his side now, and stroked his cock firmly, while fingering his arse with his other hand. <em><span class="u">“Can you feel how hard I am? Lubrico!”</span></em></p>
<p>
Draco felt Harry wanking and fingering himself harder and harder now. He himself gasped and writhed, and his breath was probably in sync with Harry’s.</p>
<p>
Soon, he felt his balls draw up, and he came, hearing Harry in his head <em><span class="u">“OhfuckyessssyesssyesssAhhhhDracoooooo!”</span></em></p>
<p>
He lay still afterward, gasping, slowly coming down from his orgasm. <em><span class="u">“He didn’t join me.”</span></em> Harry’s voice sounded sad.</p>
<p>
Now, Draco realized that Harry had been awake through the entire wank.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. In your arms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Good morning, mirror. Can you help me look good?” Draco addressed the mirror on the wardrobe.</p>
<p>
“Who do you want to impress, handsome? On the one hand, they would be smitten if you go out like this and show your legs, but I know, you might not be in a situation where that’s an option.” The mirror answered in a bass voice.</p>
<p>
“It’s not an option. Harry’s friends might pop in any time, and I have no idea if they warn us first.” Draco blushed.</p>
<p>
“Harry, huh? I think you should send Kreacher for some of Sirius’ clothes. Regulus’ clothes scream conservative Pureblood. But Sirius’ clothes… You know, the man was hoooooooot. It’s sad that he hadn’t had a chance to bond with the house. But Harry only rarely comes here. It’s not good for the house not to be bonded to somebody.” The mirror was very talkative.</p>
<p>
“I promise to do what I can to help him bond with the house. Can you in turn tell me what outfit to ask Kreacher for?” Draco winked.</p>
<p>
“Do I see a blush in that gorgeous face of yours?” The mirror’s voice got excited. “Please, tell me you want to court him. Sirius didn’t know what to do with the house, but he and Moony… if you stay along I’ll tell you about them one of these days. Not all the details, ein Gentleman genießt und schweigt, a gentleman enjoys and keeps his mouth shut about it, as the German proverb says. In short, what we need is a couple in the house. Not such a barely coexisting  pseudo-couple like Orion and Walburga but people who are in love with each other.”</p>
<p>
“Can you give me a little advice on the house bonding later? Also, for now, what clothes would you recommend for me to wear to impress Harry?” Draco asked.</p>
<p>
“Kreacher! Could you come here, please? Mr. Draco needs you.” Draco had never heard a mirror call for a house-elf, but then, in this house, if Kreacher was going to talk to anyone, there were only mirrors and portraits for that.</p>
<p>
The elf appeared with a pop. “Yes, Matthew. How can Kreacher help, Mr. Draco?”</p>
<p>
“I need clothes to ...” Draco started, but Matthew the Mirror interrupted him.</p>
<p>
“Can you bring him Sirius’ jeans, his maroon linen blazer, and the light blue paisley silk shirt? And the adaptable cologne?”</p>
<p>
The face of the ancient elf seemed to light up and looked ten years younger. “Are you going to court Harry?”</p>
<p>
“If he can accept my financially limited and non-traditional means of courtship?” Draco feared that he didn’t have enough to offer.</p>
<p>
“You do remember who we’re talking about?” Matthew sounded almost like a masculine version of Pansy. “This is Harry Potter, immune to flattery and bribery, but with an unlimited desire for a few things you have to give. You were born and raised by Mistress Narcissa, you have learned how to be witty from small. You like him, not his public image, I can see that when you say his name. And, tell me, what is it you love most about him?”</p>
<p>
“I love how he ruffles his hair when he considers something,” Draco started slowly, but then he picked up. “How his green eyes shine when he is happy, his dry sense of humour, I love the way he moves and the way he talks. I love how surprised he looks when someone asks about his feelings about something. I loved that before the trial, and since I can hear thoughts of his, I know that nothing changed about it in the last years.”</p>
<p>
“Then, get dressed and start courting him, Mr. Draco.” Kreacher piped up. He held out the outfit to Draco.</p>
<p>
“Kreacher, can you give me a piece of cloth to transfigure into lingerie?” Draco asked.</p>
<p><br/>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>)()()(</p>
</div><p><br/>
As Draco came to the kitchen, Harry was sitting gloomily over a cup of coffee. He had arranged a variety of breakfast food, but not taken a plate himself.</p>
<p>
“Good morning. All this breakfast food, but you don’t have a plate?” Draco raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>
“No appetite today. Listen, I’m sorry. You probably heard me wank. That was an awful idea.” Harry looked so small and sad.</p>
<p>
Draco summoned all his courage. “You put on a show for me, didn’t you? I only realized it after you finished. And, before that, I thought you might be sleepwanking. So, I had to assume that you would not want me around. If I had known you wanted me to be there…”</p>
<p>
“Would you have joined me?” Harry perked up.</p>
<p>
“I would have asked you what it means to you. And then I would have decided what to do. I only want to do this with you if it has the potential of meaning something. Because I don’t want to be the flavour of the day.” Draco fidgeted.</p>
<p>
“I’ve had my share of flavours of the day, and all of them were just different kinds of stale for me. If we’re on the same page, I want us to be together for real. I want you to be my boyfriend, I want our friends to know we’re together. And I would like it to last.” Harry took Draco’s hand.</p>
<p>
“I would like that, too.” Draco moved closer to Harry.</p>
<p>
“After your trial, it was no longer Rowena Baker in charge of who was allowed to visit you, but Dawlish. He didn’t allow you to get visitors. But he told me you didn’t want to see me, I only learned shortly before Christmas from Tonsy who cleans the DMLE rooms that you would have liked me to visit you. I thought it was too late. I thought I had failed you twice. Once by kissing you without your consent, and once by not finding a way to talk to you.” Harry’s voice sounded shaky.</p>
<p>
“Dawlish told me that I wasn’t going to bribe my way back into society’s good graces or corrupt you.” Draco remembered the contempt in Dawlish’s face, and how before the war, Dawlish had kowtowed before Father. Dawlish had not needed to be Imperiused under Thicknesse, as Draco had heard his father say several times.</p>
<p>
“I think I’ll have a little chat with Kingsley about Dawlish when this is over. Because I asked and you had the right to have visitors.” Harry growled.</p>
<p>
“Harry, he managed to delay our getting together, but now we’re here, and I … You made me think of things last night, I want...” Draco expressed his feelings. They would have to talk about all of it, but they had time for that, didn’t they?</p>
<p>
Harry leaned in and kissed him, softly, as if he were afraid a wrong move would wake him up and reveal that all this was just a dream.</p>
<p>
Draco deepened the kiss. Harry’s mouth tasted of coffee with cinnamon. As they came up for air, Draco asked: “Can we find a more comfortable place to take this to?”</p>
<p>
“Do you mean a bed?” Harry’s voice sounded shy.</p>
<p>
“Yes, I would like that. But you have to know that I haven’t – haven’t done it with any person yet. My only sexual experience is with toys.” As soon as Draco had said it, he was afraid of Harry’s reaction.
But Harry just gave him a wide smile and replied in a soft voice. “We’ll take it as slow as you want. I’ll take care of you, darling.”</p>
<p>
Darling! This felt so good. Harry took Draco by the hand and led him into his room. As soon as they were up the stairs, Draco pulled Harry into an embrace.</p>
<p>
Harry brought his hands to Draco’s shirt buttons. “May I?”</p>
<p>
“Please. Too many clothes!” He let Harry unbutton his shirt, then pulled up Harry’s t-shirt. Harry slipped out of it, then they stumbled into Harry’s room.</p>
<p>
They sat down on Harry’s bed, Harry stroked over Draco’s chest. It felt so good.</p>
<p>
“You’re so beautiful. Can I see more of you?”</p>
<p>
“Yes.”</p>
<p>
“Lie back, Draco. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make you feel so good.” Harry followed Draco as he lay back, kissed a trail from his collarbone to his left nipple, and sucked on it.</p>
<p>
Draco gasped. “That feels so good.”</p>
<p>
He felt Harry’s hand open his fly.</p>
<p>
Harry let go of his nipple and breathed, “Lift your hips, darling,” against it. The sound of his voice made Draco shiver with pleasure.</p>
<p>
He lifted his hips, and Harry pulled the trousers down.</p>
<p>
“You’re wearing red lace?”</p>
<p>
“Awfully Gryffindorish colour, but a wrapping paper should look nice for the recipient,” Draco smirked. Maybe he wasn’t all awkward in this just because he lacked experience. He kicked off his trousers completely.</p>
<p>
“Want to see if you like my wrapping paper?” Harry’s voice sounded even sexier now.</p>
<p>
Draco banished Harry’s joggers to a chair in the corner. He was wearing a green speedo.</p>
<p>
“Sorry, I’ve never tried wearing lace. But if you want me to, I will.” Harry said shyly.</p>
<p>
“It feels good to wear it, especially because it reminds me that even if nobody looks I can still make myself feel pretty,” Draco admitted, feeling bold and stroking over Harry’s chest.</p>
<p>
“I’ve looked at you every single day. And on bad days, looking at you, even though I thought I could only fancy you from far, was what made it worth getting up.” Harry whispered in his ear. Then he sucked at Draco’s earlobe. His hand began to stroke Draco’s cock through the fabric.</p>
<p>
Draco moaned. “Harry, please, more.”</p>
<p>
Harry pushed Draco’s knickers down. He trailed kisses over his chest and abs again, down, down, down, then nuzzled Draco’s cock. He licked over the vein, then took Draco’s length in his mouth and swallowed around it. He bobbed his head, looking up into Draco’s eyes. Draco lost track of time, he was all feeling and hearing and moaning. Too soon, his balls drew up, and all he got out was “Harry, gonna…” before he came.</p>
<p>
When he had come down from his orgasm, he mumbled “Sorry.”</p>
<p>
“I’m not. You’re beautiful when you come. So beautiful, I had to touch myself, too. I just vanished the mess wordlessly.” Harry grinned, then cuddled up to him and kissed him. Draco tasted himself on Harry’s tongue.</p>
<p><br/>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>)()()(</p>
</div><p><br/>
After coming for the second time, this time by rutting against each other, Draco needed something to eat and drink, while Harry had dozed off. He saw a bathrobe hanging on a hook beside the door, put it on, and padded downstairs.</p>
<p>
“Finally finished? I’ve been sitting here, waiting for half an hour. You could at least have cast a silencing charm, mate.” Weasley’s voice came from downstairs, as Draco left the bedroom.</p>
<p>
Draco summoned all his courage. “It’s me, Weasley, Harry is sleeping, and I wanted to get a glass of water and something for us to eat.”</p>
<p>
“Bloody hell, I owe Ginny twenty Galleons. She said you both would hit it off within the first 48 hours, while I said it would take you a week or two.” Weasley chuckled. “Don’t look that shocked. We’re Harry’s family. If you’re what he wants, while you may have been a prat in school,you might still be a prat, I also know that the Ministry elves trust you. They told Hermione that you have become a good man. But for some reason, they think Teddy lives with Harry. The truth is Teddy visits Harry every other weekend.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. At home with each other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next nine days didn’t feel like a witness protection program at all. When they weren’t shagging or sleeping and cuddled up against each other, they researched and prepared the house bonding ritual. Harry had to meditate for preparation in every single room — including en-suites and the pantry — and Draco learned more about the horrors of Harry’s childhood when Harry asked in a small voice if it was necessary to meditate in the cupboards, too.</p>
<p>
“Why would you meditate in a cupboard? It’s not a room.” Draco asked. If Harry hadn’t looked so scared, Draco would have assumed that he was having him on.</p><p>
Harry’s hands shook when he told Draco about the cupboard under the stairs, about having to sleep there every night, about Uncle Vernon beating him and locking him in without food, about being a preschool kid and having only the spiders for company. </p><p>
“You told me that your relatives didn’t want you, but you never told me how abusive they were.” Draco knew very well why Harry hadn’t told him back then. He might have believed that his father had a point in his views, unlike now, when Draco had contact with Muggles like Keiko and knew that one abusive couple was not representative for Muggles in general. “I wish my father had gotten them instead of all those innocent Muggles.”</p><p>
“The last thing I heard from my cousin, who turned out better than his parents, is that their house is haunted by a ghost who has lots of fun with them. The ghost sounds quite familiar. I think it’s Fred, Ron’s brother.”  Harry reached for Draco’s hand, and Draco pulled him into a comforting embrace.</p><p>
“I hope he channels some real Peeves energy there,” Draco said.</p><p>
“He will. Remember, Fred and George were the only ones who could tell Peeves what to do.”</p><p><br/>
                                                           	</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>)()()(</p>
</div><p><br/>
They were just preparing the drawing room with the tapestry for the bonding itself when Ron’s Animagus appeared. “Harry, there’s been an attempted attack. Quinn got the perp. Send me a message if your present state is safe for work.”</p><p>
Harry conjured his Patronus, and it seemed to Draco that it shone brighter than ever. The stag was sent off with the message. “Come through, please. We’re in the drawing room.”</p><p>
A few seconds later, Ron Apparated into the room, then greeted Harry, and — to his great surprise — Draco with a hug and said “You won’t guess who the perp is.”</p><p>
“Is is Zacharias Smith?” Harry asked.</p><p>
“No, it’s Rita Skeeter. She doesn’t get her stories published as easily as before, now that people want real information since the Prophet group’s de facto monopoly is broken.” Hearing Ron say this, Draco was no longer surprised that Ron would sometimes speak at the Auror press conferences. He radiated professionalism. “People can find news in the Quibbler or get accurate information on WWN. She thought if she could uncover a story about your love life she would be back on top.”</p><p>
Harry burst into laughter. “If her plan had worked out, she wouldn’t have found out about any love life. I finally convinced Seamus that I don’t want to be set up on any blind dates ever again. She brought me together with Draco, but will hear it from the news the day we are ready to share it with the public.”</p><p>
“What sentence is she likely to get?” Draco inquired when Harry had calmed down.</p><p>
“House arrest and community service, between six months and two years,” Ron replied. “Depending on how severe the Wizengamot considers her crime.”</p><p>
“We should send her a box of chocolates when we tell the public that we’re a couple,” Harry said and kissed Draco’s cheek.</p><p><br/>
 
<b>Valentine Day, a year later</b></p><p>
Again, the Ministry cafeteria was decorated for Valentine Day, but now Draco was only a guest here. At the demand of the elves and with the support of Hermione and Minister Shacklebolt, he had replaced the former elf liaison official. Together with Ninty, he was now co-heading the newly established Subdepartment for elf and human cooperation.</p><p>
Many other things had changed in the meantime. After the house bonding, Harry had moved into Grimmauld Place permanently, as well as Andromeda and Teddy, who had a whole floor of their own, while Cupid had found a life partner in Grimmauld Place’s only resident gnome. Draco was in the process of giving up his old flat, after having lived there only on paper for a long time now.</p><p>
Draco was waiting for Harry with two trays of food at the same table where they would sit together every day for lunch with Ron and Hermione. But today was different. They had a press conference scheduled for after lunch.</p><p>
“Hey, darling. How was your morning?” Harry hugged him from behind, and Draco wondered where he had come from. After all, behind him was the way to the kitchen.</p><p>
“It was okay. I wasn’t very productive. The press conference…”  Draco leaned against Harry.</p><p>
“I think after your appearance at Lee’s show, we don’t need to worry too much. People know that you’re not your father.” Harry took a seat beside Draco, still holding his hand.</p><p>
At that moment, Cupid the gnome appeared from the kitchen, this time not flying, his wings were long gone, carrying a fortune cookie on a minuscule tray.</p><p>
“Delivery for Malfoy” he called out excitedly.</p><p>
Draco bent down and picked up the cookie. He broke it open and read the paper inside.</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Draco Malfoy,<br/>            	Will you marry me?<br/>            	Yours, Harry.</p>
</blockquote><p>
Harry had gotten down on one knee during the distraction and held out a ring to Draco.</p><p>
“Yes! I will.”</p><p>
“What do you think? Should we tell the public that we’re going to get married, too? Or should they only hear that we’re in a relationship?” Harry asked.</p><p>
“Let’s tell them gradually. For now, it’s enough if our friends and family know. The public can know about our engagement when the wedding date is set.” Draco grinned.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>🎵 This work is part of H/D Wireless, a song inspired, anon, Drarry fest with its home on tumblr! </p><p>If you enjoyed this, shower our content creators with all the love you have to give by leaving kudos ❤️ and comments 💌 on their work!</p><p>  <a href="http://hd-wireless.tumblr.com/">Check out the fest tumblr to find even more works and daily updates!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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